You Say Slow, I Say Quiet – Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
by mostlytvstuff
Summary: She had to open the door immediately. She couldn't let him linger in the hallway feeling like he had failed her. So she reached up from her sitting position and turned the knob. When he heard the sound, he immediately jumped at the opportunity and swung the door open. She fell on her back in the hallway, at his feet.


_Okay, one last story before tonight! And then we have the whole summer to imagine. It has been fun trying to get them back together, but I really want to see how Mindy does it. And how Chris and Mindy make it come alive. _

_This includes references to some of the pictures from the New York City shoot and loosely incorporates some stuff from the promo. _

They were a mismatch from the beginning. He knew it was only a matter of time before things unraveled.

She wanted to take it slow, but she never took anything slow. Ever. Richie had helped him see how judgmental he could be, but he still didn't really understand her reticence. He wanted her all the time. She was beautiful and sexy, and even before he felt things for her, he had _felt things for her_. Why would she want to suddenly go slow? Was she unsure about him? Was it because she knew something that he couldn't see? When she looked at him, did she see what Christina saw? They were both ready to endure the least sanitary conditions in earth's atmosphere in order to get it on in an airplane bathroom. What had changed when they were back on the ground?

He wanted to keep it quiet. This was a completely foreign concept in her twitterized, open book existence. And not only was it difficult for her, it also made her feel insecure. He had never intended to make her feel way. It wasn't because he was ashamed of her – that couldn't have been less true. He was ashamed of himself. He was ashamed of his failures. He was divorced. Divorced. And even though Mindy teased him about being old, he was too young to already have a divorce on his record. And Christina had been so _public_ with him. It felt like he had already lived an entire lifetime of relationship drama on the big stage, his flaws photographed and magnified and on display for the whole world. He couldn't do that again, not with Mindy.

But it wasn't just their obvious differences that convinced him it wasn't right. The way they had finally gotten together was just as unsteady. Danny had just (sort of) reconnected with the father who abandoned him and was now raising his replacement. And Mindy was literally and figuratively flying back to her boyfriend. In fact, she was in the air between break-up and reunion, closer to the reunion side, when he had irresponsibly marched to the back of a plane stuck his tongue where it didn't belong.

It couldn't have been more wrong. But god, it didn't feel wrong when she put her arms around him and kissed him back. It felt hesitant and uncertain, but still right in every way. It didn't feel wrong when he held her hand at Cliff's grandmother's funeral. In fact, it felt wonderful that he knew her in a way that Cliff didn't and that Danny understood her in a way no one else could. It didn't feel wrong when they stole kisses in the office. It felt exciting and hot and amazing. It didn't feel wrong when he woke up next to her. It felt comfortable and fulfilling.

And nothing had ever felt more wrong than when he stood outside of her apartment looking up at her window knowing she was crying because of him. In fact, everything had felt wrong since then. But he couldn't go back.

Next to losing his father, divorcing Christina was the most difficult thing he had ever experienced. But it was survivable. He had picked up and moved on, sort of. But he couldn't lose Mindy. Just the thought of it caused sweat to bead on his forehead and made him feel like he couldn't breathe. If he lost another relationship, that would be hard enough. But if he lost Mindy… he couldn't think about it.

So he walked through the streets of New York without her.

He didn't touch her back protectively as they exited the subway. He put his hands in his pockets and walked on. He didn't smile at her lovingly when she bashfully asked to stop for gelato. He just ordered vanilla and kept going. He didn't put his arm around her and kiss her forehead in Washington Square Park. He didn't see how beautiful she looked as they watched the sun set on the Hudson.

When she opened the door, he was sweaty and out of breath from running to her. "What the hell, Danny?"

"Give me another chance." She shut the door immediately.

When she saw his disheveled hair and the sheen of sweat on his face, she felt weak. She wanted to fall into his hot, sweaty arms and melt into him. He looked so vulnerable. Even in that second before she closed the door, she wanted to grab him. She figured it must have what he felt like on the plane – this desperate need to have him.

But she couldn't be desperate. She had to be strong for both of them – but mostly for herself. Even if he could finally decide to let her in, she was done giving him chances to change his mind. She teased him about being an old man, but he was old enough to be better at this. She deserved more than what he was willing to give her.

She stood silently on her side of the door, wondering if he had left.

"Mindy?" He sounded so small. "I'm just going to talk, ok? You don't have to listen. But I hope you do." He knew even listening to him was more than he deserved. Here was this girl – this smart, funny, beautiful girl who cared about him, who brought him friendship cakes, who admired his dancing and his piano playing – and he let her go. Not just let her go – he forced her away again and again.

He wanted to sit down in the hallway and wallow in self-pity. But he didn't. He stood up like a man who was ready to accept the consequences of his actions. But he couldn't stop the tears from coming out of his eyes. His worst fear was still coming true – he was losing Mindy.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if I have really said that to you. But I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you and that I changed my mind a million times. And that I… everything. I'm just sorry." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm sorry I let you go. That was… of all the mistakes I've made, Mindy, that was the worst."

She slid down on the floor, leaning her back against the closed door. For the first time, she really felt they were over. She didn't even realize she still had hope for them until she was sitting on the other side of the door, feeling it slip away. And then the real tears – the ones she had been holding on to since the night he left her – started to fall.

They were both silent for a long time. The misery was palpable through the door. "I think you were right, Danny. We shouldn't be together."

"No, you're wrong." He said immediately, strongly. "We should be together. We should be together because we make each other miserable and happy, and it's... the best thing that has ever happened to me." His voice broke, and he felt like he was breaking in half.

He swallowed hard. "I keep thinking about my divorce papers. They came in this perfectly neat, orderly stack. And they had those little blue and pink post-it notes poking out of the stack, showing us which pages to sign. The little post-it notes were shaped like arrows, and they said 'Sign Here.' But when I looked at them, all I could see was 'You failed.'

"I don't want to fail with you. You gave me so many chances... and then I failed you anyway."

She had to open the door immediately. She couldn't let him linger in the hallway feeling like he had failed her. So she reached up from her sitting position and turned the knob. When he heard the sound, he immediately jumped at the opportunity and swung the door open. She fell on her back in the hallway, at his feet.

"You didn't fail me," she said.

He sat down on the floor and helped her get back to a sitting position. They were still on opposite sides of the threshold, but they were eye-to-eye, both with tear-stained cheeks.

"I did. But I won't do it again. I just need one more chance. Do you want a grand romantic gesture? Do you want me to run through the city and give you a big speech about wanting to wake up with you every morning?"

She smiled. "I knew you loved that movie." He gave her a crooked smile. "Well, you already look like you ran through the city." She wiped a little of the sweat off his forehead with her fingers and put some of his hair back in place. He grabbed her hand and gently kissed her knuckles, but never broke eye contact.

"I love you." He said with a little choke. "You know I love you."

She nodded and started to tear up again. "I love you too." They looked at each other for a long time, him still holding her hand.

"Should we go inside?" He asked, looking around the hallway, wondering if the neighbors had just heard his whole life change. She nodded. As they helped each other up, his arms instinctively curled around her waist, and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her. And there they stood, in the doorway between no and yes, trying not to fail each other.

He started walking her backwards. His hand slipped lower and cupped her butt, his fingers slipping deliciously between her legs. And it felt so intimate. He pulled his face back to look at her. It was the most intensity anyone had ever shown her.

He let his face slowly glide to her jaw and through her hair, behind her ear. "I miss you," he whispered in her ear. She felt light-headed. He kissed her neck, sliding down towards her shoulder.

But kissing felt somehow off – he suddenly just wanted to hold on to her. So he pulled her head into his chest and hugged her, gently rubbing her back and resting his chin on the top of her head. She folded her body into his, and they stood like that for a long time.

"I'm so tired." She said finally. As the adrenaline of their doorway reunion started to wear off, she could feel her body collapsing under the weight of her exhaustion. He was tired too, so he pulled away from her and slipped off his jacket. Then he clasped her hand in his and walked to her bedroom, where they laid down together. He pulled her head onto his chest and continued stroking her back as she fell asleep.

When he woke up, she was playing with the buttons on his shirt. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark, and he could barely hear the city noise, so he assumed it was well into the night. The lights in her room were still on, and they were both still fully clothed. "What time is it?" he inquired.

She nuzzled her head into his neck, just below his ear and whispered, "I don't know. Does it matter?" Her breath on his neck tickled a little. He smiled at that thought.

She started kissing his neck, letting her tongue slip out every now and then, as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He stayed still with one arm still around her, looking at her ceiling, thinking about lucky he was.

"I walked all around the city today… just thinking about you." She kissed his jaw. He was deliriously tired and deliriously happy, and it was doing weird things to his mouth. He suddenly felt the need to confess everything to her.

"I spent the day looking at a picture of you from my heartbreak box." They were both in the mood for confessions. "I kept putting it back and closing the box. And then a few minutes later, I would open it back up and get out the picture. Eventually, I had to put your picture in the back of my fridge. But then I had incentive to eat the rest of the coffee cake in there." She opening the buttons of his shirt and kissing his skin as is was exposed. And they both felt like they were being unbuttoned.

"Why didn't you want to have sex with me before?"

She popped her head up to look at him. "I wanted to." She kissed him, letting her tongue slip into his mouth. And it felt like joining him, in some sweet, simple way. "I wanted to so much. But this is special. And I didn't even realize how much I wanted it until I had it. And I already belonged to you in every other way – I wanted to hold on to that last piece until it was right." He understood immediately.

"Why did you want to keep our relationship a secret?"

"Same." And it was true. And he was overwhelmed by how different and the same they were.

She smiled into his lips. He put his arms around her and rolled her underneath him, pulling her shirt over her head before settling between her legs. She pulled the rest of his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He remembered how much he loved the way her hands felt on his skin.

"I wanted to be the guy you had a crush on. That night you stayed with me and talked about Cliff… I wanted it to be me." He kissed down her neck to her chest.

He lifted her up just enough to pop the hooks on her bra deftly, eyes wide open. He sat up and pulled the straps off, relishing her glorious, topless figure before him.

"I wanted the letter you wrote to Cliff to be for me," she said shying under the intensity of his gaze.

He dipped his head and grazed his lips on her neck by her ear. "It was."

He slid his hand under her skirt. "I left my earrings at your apartment. So you would have to bring them back to me, like in Cinderella." His hand slipped under her panties to feel her smooth skin. It was nothing like Cinderella, but she hummed her approval nonetheless.

The rest of their confessions were wordless – but not soundless – as they finally crossed the threshold into everything they could be together.

Later, when they were still sweaty and out of breath, he looked at her with the same vulnerable expression she had seen on him in the back of an airplane. "I found your earrings." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I keep them on my bed. Under your pillow."

_Thanks for reading! Mostlytvstuff on Tumblr_


End file.
